The Mandarin's Fan Part 39

"No! No! T'was a ghost--oh dreary me, my days are numbered."

Mrs. Petley could not be persuaded that the thing she saw was flesh and blood, so Rupert gave up trying to convince her. He returned the lantern back to old John and told the couple to retire to bed. They were both white and nervous and not fit to be up. Then he came back to the drawing-room and found Olivia seated by the fire reading. At the door Rupert paused to think what a pretty picture she made in her rich dinner-dress--one of Miss Wharf's gifts--and with one small hand supporting her dainty head. She looked up, as though she felt the magic of his gaze, and he approached swiftly to press a kiss on the hand she held out to him. "Well?" asked Olivia.

Rupert shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing to be learned," said he, "Mrs. Petley won't give in. She believes she has seen a ghost, and declares that her days are numbered. As she is nearly seventy, I daresay they are. But this fan,"--he took it out of his pocket.

"Let me see it," said Olivia stretching out her hand.

But Rupert drew it away and spread out the leaves. "No, my dear, I don't like you to handle the horrible thing. And besides, you have seen it often enough in the hand of your aunt."

"Yes, but now there is an awful significance about it."

"There's blood--"

"Blood," cried his wife shuddering, "but she was strangled."

"I speak figuratively, my dear. This little trifle has cost one life: it may cost more. I am quite sure Lo-Keong's life hangs on this fan, or he would not be so anxious to get it back. It has a secret, and I intend to learn what the secret is."

"Oh, you mean to wave it in the smoke," said Olivia remembering what Rupert had told her of Tung-yu's speech.

"Yes I do. I want to see the invisible picture. Then, we may learn of this hiding place which contains the things, Lo-Keong's enemies wish to secure. I expect it is some treasonous correspondence."

"But, Rupert, the hiding-place will be in China. Lo-Keong would not send papers of that kind to be concealed in England."

"It would be the safest place," replied Rupert dryly, "however, I intend to try the experiment of waving this fan in the smoke."

"You don't know the kind of smoke?"

"I can guess the kind. Olivia do you remember that joss-stick which Mrs.

Petley found in the Abbey."

"Yes--at the time she saw the ghost."

"Precisely. The ghost left that joss-stick behind on the first occasion, and the fan on the second. Now I shouldn't wonder if the fan had got into the hands of Hwei, and that _he_ was the ghost."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, Hwei confessed that he was lurking outside the Bristol hotel to get a chance of killing Miss Wharf when she was lured out by Tung-yu.

That gentleman however played false. All the same Hwei was here, and perhaps he came up to the Abbey--"

"Why?" asked Olivia looking perplexed.

"Ah, that I can't tell you. But I fancy the answer is to be found in this fan, as soon as we see the picture."

"But the smoke."

"Must be made by that joss-stick. It smells like cinnamon, and is apparently a manufactured article. Hwei brought it, so that he could wave the fan in its smoke and then learn the secret. But he dropped the joss-stick and--where is it Olivia?"

"I put it in a drawer over there, after you showed it to me."

Mrs. Ainsleigh went to a rose-wood cabinet and opened a drawer. She then returned with the joss-stick in her hand, and gave it to her husband, who was kneeling on the hearth-rug. "I hope it won't explode, Rupert,"

said Olivia nervously.

He stared. "Why should you think that?"

"Well it might have been dropped on purpose, and looks like a cracker with that red paper round it. Perhaps there's dynamite--"

"Nonsense," said Rupert taking out a match, "however, if you are afraid, go into the next room."

"No," said Olivia seating herself, "if you are to be blown to bits, I'll be blown up with you."

They both laughed at the idea, and then Rupert lighted the match. It was distinctly nervous work however, and Olivia started back, as her husband set the joss-stick fizzling. She was leaning forward in the chair with her dark head nearly touching his fair hair. The joss-stick smoked slowly and a queer odour diffused itself though the room. Olivia sniffed. "Rupert," she said positively, "it's the same scent as was on that letter of Tung-yu's."

"And of Lo-Keong also," said Rupert watching the thick bluish smoke, which now began to curl up from the joss-stick, "apparently the Mandarin uses the perfume as a kind of clue, or perhaps it is a special scent dedicated to this private G.o.d of his. I shall never understand Chinamen and I'm very sure I don't want too. Olivia, hold the stick while I wave the fan in the smoke."

Being now a.s.sured that the smoke was proceeding from a harmless article, Mrs. Ainsleigh took the stick and held it lightly, while her husband gravely waved the out-spread fan in the thick smoke. The joss-stick fizzled and burned and gave out its queer smell, which made both slightly dizzy. Every now and then, Rupert looked at the enamelled side of the fan, where Tung-yu said that a picture would appear. There certainly did seem something scrawled on the smooth green sticks, and a blurred outline revealed itself. For quite ten minutes Ainsleigh continued waving, until the joss-stick burnt down nearly to the root.

Then he looked again, Olivia placed the still fizzling joss-stick in the fender, and peered over his shoulder. She uttered a cry when she saw the black outline of the picture, and Rupert nearly echoed it. They were looking at a drawing of the cloisters.

Yes--there were the cloisters of Royabay Abbey taken, as by a camera, from the archway. The architecture was clear enough, and the trees also.

But the picture was merely evanescent, for as the fan grew cold again the outlines vanished. However, they knew that the hiding place of the presumed papers, was within the cloisters of Royabay--but in what spot.

Rupert laid down the fan and propounded the problem to his wife. "The indications would be more exact."

"Yes," replied Olivia thoughtfully, and picked up the fan, "I suppose you are right, Rupert. It must have been Hwei who came to the Abbey on the night my aunt was killed and dropped the joss-stick. Perhaps he came to see if he could find the hiding place, without the aid of the fan."

"No," said Rupert, "Hwei is the servant of Lo-Keong, and probably knew of the hiding place; whereas Tung-yu, who served Hop Sing wanted the fan to learn about it. I expect had Tung-yu bought the fan, he would have come here and found the papers and then have cleared out to China to place them in his master's hands and ruin Lo-Keong."

"Are you sure there are papers hidden?" said Olivia, fingering the beads dangling from the thick yellow cord.

"I think so. It can't be gold or silver or jewels. However, what we have to do is to find what is hidden. Then when Lo-Keong comes down we can make a bargain with him. If he hands over my eight thousand, I'll give him whatever we find."

"But how are we to find the spot?" said Mrs. Ainsleigh dreamily.

"Oh, Rupert," she added, "it's in one of the trees. Don't you remember a tree was drawn at the side of the picture with a white line down the trunk?"

"No, I didn't see that. I saw the four trees and the stump drawn in the picture."

Mrs. Ainsleigh rattled the beads through her fingers. "Four beads and half a bead," she exclaimed, "Rupert, those stand for the four trees and for the stump."

"What makes you think so?"

"The half bead--that is the stump, and see, one of the beads is of jasper, that might be the copper beech."

"By jove," Rupert jumped up, "I believe you are right."

"I am sure I am, and in the tree drawn at the side of the picture which you did not observe, there was a white line down the trunk."

"Well," said Rupert pondering, "perhaps whatever is hidden is tied to a string or a chain and is dropped down the trunk of one of the four trees--or perhaps in the stump."

"Not in the stump," said Olivia quickly, "for then the line would be visible, while in the other trees it would be concealed in the thick foliage. I fancy the line must be down the copper beech trunk, as there is but one red bead."